


The Elvish Way

by tacky_tramp



Category: Lord of the Rings (Novel)
Genre: 3_ships, F/M, I Saw Three Ships, Poly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-26
Updated: 2009-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacky_tramp/pseuds/tacky_tramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Elves approach love differently</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Elvish Way

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kit Russell for 3_ships 2009. Requested elements: silk, velvet, or lace.

After the Council was ended and the grave decision reached, scouting parties left Rivendell to gather what intelligence they could in preparation for the task ahead. Though she was a skilled rider and even quite nimble with a sword, Arwen stayed at home with her father. There were eyes enough scouring the horizon. She knew she'd do more good if she stayed right where she was, tending the hearth and giving her loved ones something safe and familiar to come home to.

Elladan and Elrohir went off to the south, headed along the near side of the Misty Mountains. They departed in the grim evening. Arwen held her brothers' hands for a moment, murmuring a blessing for their safety. A more lingering goodbye had been reserved for someone else.

"I just arrived," Aragorn had murmured into her inky hair, "and now I'm leaving again."

They were lying in her bed, limbs wrapped together after an all too brief union. She'd smiled up at him. "You'll return before midwinter. We've been parted for longer than this. I gather we'll be parted for a while after it, too, but when this task is complete, I believe we'll be together for a long time."

Though his body remained tense, he'd smiled, too. "How will you spend the time that I'm gone?" He always asked her this before he set out.

"I'll entertain our guests, and learn about their lands and their ways. When you think of me, you can imagine the Halflings making me laugh and the Dwarves boring me with their endless stories about mining and ale. I will speak with Boromir of Gondor as well and see what sort of man he is."

Aragorn had nodded thoughtfully. "Then you will have much to tell me when I return."

She'd leaned up until her lips brushed his and closed her eyes. "I hope that's very soon," she'd murmured, and kissed him.

\---

True to her word, Arwen spent much of the next week with the visiting Dwarves and Hobbits, and they did not fail to meet her expectations. She listened politely to Gloin's and Gimli's tales of subterranean exploration. It helped them relax in the face of almost hopeless odds, and she could suffer some boredom on their behalf. She took more genuine pleasure in the company of the little people from the Shire. Bilbo was an old friend by now, of course, but the others proved what she'd suspected: Their race was a mirthful one, full of loyalty and natural affection. Melancholy foreboding lingered around Frodo, but his friends cheered him in spite of himself.

She hesitated, however, when it came to Boromir. They saw each other across the nightly supper table and crossed paths in the gardens from time to time. Despite her stated intentions, she couldn't bring herself to do more than nod in his direction. It was a strange thing.

She considered it one night while resting, the silk bedclothes wrapped around her comfortably. He didn't frighten her, but the feeling that came up in his presence was like fear. As only the second Man she'd ever met, he was simultaneously foreign and familiar. Everything about him struck her as alien. It also reminded her powerfully of Aragorn. She found herself wondering about the similarities and differences that wouldn't be apparent from across a banquet table. Silk slid across her skin, and outside, the moon rose high.

\---

The next day, Arwen invited Boromir to join her for afternoon tea. It was a custom Bilbo had introduced to Rivendell, and the daily ritual of it delighted her. Boromir seemed familiar with it, as well. He sat across from her with formal stiffness as she poured smoothly.

"We're fortunate you arrived when you did," she told him while the tea cooled.

The delicate cup looked odd in his large, weathered hands. He blew across the surface of the tea. "I am the fortunate one, Lady Arwen. I came seeking the wisdom of the Elves, and instead stumbled into a meeting of all the free peoples of Middle Earth. Gondor could not have asked for better fortune, especially in a time as dark as this."

She nodded solemnly. "Aragorn looks forward to aiding you in Gondor's protection."

He looked uncomfortable, and she wondered how he truly felt about his new acquaintance with Isildur's heir. "Aragorn is your betrothed, is he not?" he asked.

Arwen nodded.

He paused, as if casting about for the right words. "Then perhaps it is not entirely appropriate for us to be meeting alone."

"Why would it not be appropriate?" she asked.

"An unmarried woman, especially a woman who has promised herself to someone else, shouldn't spend time with a man without a chaperone."

A bright peal of laughter bubbled out of her and she felt her cheeks warming in the tea's steam. "Chaperone! What do you mean? Are the women of Gondor no more than overgrown children, in need of constant supervision?"

"The women of Gondor are strong and virtuous, my lady," Boromir said gravely. "However, women who want to guard their reputation take measures to avoid unseemly appearances."

She thought about that for a moment. "I think I understand. Among the _edain_, it is assumed that when a man and a woman are alone together, it is a love-meeting. A tryst." He nodded. "Women who engage in such behavior are scorned." He affirmed this again, though with downcast eyes. "But what about the men?"

Boromir looked at her blankly.

"Do you not need a chaperone to guard your reputation?"

He blinked, and then suddenly he was doubled over with laughter, gripping his knees and wiping at his eyes. Arwen watched this display with interest. She waited patiently while he quieted down and calmed himself again. Meeting her expectant gaze, he explained. "You see, men don't have much of a reputation to start with. We are always thought to be seeking trysts and affairs. It's accepted as part of our nature. Women, on the other hand, are inclined toward decency and purity. They may sometimes be led astray, convinced or forced to sully themselves, but respectable women avoid that by never being alone with men."

"'Sully themselves'? You make love sound like a mud bath."

A blush crept up Boromir's cheeks. "Love is surely a high and noble thing, but what happens in private between a man and a woman may be quite low and common."

"You are talking about ... what's the word in the common tongue ... coming-together? Pleasure. Sex!"

Once the word was out of her mouth, Boromir flushed full scarlet and was suddenly terribly busy stirring his tea. Arwen smiled. "It upsets you to hear me say it, because you think I am noble and pure, and you believe that such women should not discuss the subject. Your esteem touches me. But the Elves approach love differently." She smiled, and corrected herself. "We approach _sex_ differently."

She could see it clear as day on his face: propriety and curiosity warring for control. In the end, he met her eyes and merely said, "That's very interesting." Arwen decided to take pity on him, and changed the subject.

\---

They had tea again a few days later. Conversation kept to "appropriate" topics: social conditions in Minas Tirith, favorite tales and lays, and the unique beauty of their surroundings. Boromir's relief was palpable. Arwen, on the other hand, felt restless. Her eyes lingered on his shoulders, which were broad and powerful underneath the velvet clothing they'd found for him. He was built more powerfully than Aragorn, who was strong but lean; though the Steward's son had traveled months to reach Rivendell, he'd never wanted for food back home. Sun and wind had marked his face, but of course he was so much younger than Aragorn. Arwen smiled to herself. Then she realized they'd been staring at each other in silence for several minutes.

"You look thoughtful, Lady," he said.

"I am thinking," she answered, "of some things you said in our last meeting."

Boromir said nothing, and though the color rose in his cheeks again, he kept his gaze on hers.

"You said that because I have promised to marry Aragorn, I should not spend time alone with men. I believe you meant that such a situation might call my honor and fidelity into question. You assumed that it would be dishonorable and unfaithful for me to ... have a tryst with another man. Have I understood correctly?"

He nodded. "Of course. When you love one, you forsake all others."

"Perhaps that is the way in Gondor. It makes sense to choose one love only when life lasts less than a century. Elvish lives stretch much longer than that, however, and the Elvish way is different."

Boromir's poise began to falter. He searched her face for clarification, as though he was struggling to believe her words.

She reached out a hand to cover his. "If a woman promises her lover that she will forsake all others, then she does indeed dishonor herself when she take another into her bed. What if she has made no such promises? Can she still deserve respect? Can she still keep faith with her love, in her own way?"

Boromir curled his fingers around Arwen's. He smiled tentatively, and a moment later, she had closed the distance between them. Across the room, her fine silk bedclothes waited to receive them in the Elvish way.


End file.
